Question Thirty-Eight
by M C Pehrson
Summary: "A Trek Redeux" Story #5: It should be the best of times as Spock prepares to graduate from Starfleet Academy. But personal heartache and a trying encounter make him reconsider his future course and the value of emotions.


All during his month-long training cruise, Spock had felt increasingly uneasy. It was more than the impending finals, for his mind recorded every fact in such detail that little study was ever required. Academically, he saw no reason why he would not graduate from Starfleet Academy with honors. Having entered with astrophysics and linguistic degrees from Caltech, he had filled the past four years with technical courses, post graduate studies, and assisting Captain Pike as a student teacher. And in all that time, he had not accumulated a single demerit.

No, the trouble lay elsewhere.

Arriving back in his dorm room, he dropped his valise and cadet cap in a chair and began to strip off his gray uniform jacket. His eyes lit on the bedside picture of Leila Kalomi and he grew still, momentarily overwhelmed with longing.

For seven long years they had spent every possible free moment together, at times bending Academy rules to the breaking point. In order to be near him, she had transferred to Berkeley for her final year of university and then found a job as a botanist in the bay area. As soon as Spock graduated, they would marry. That had always been the plan. Yet now, with the end finally in sight, she seemed to be backing away from their commitment.

Come what may, they were meeting tonight to discuss the issue.

oooo

The academy clock tower chimed ten as Spock skirted the edge of the commons, entered a service door left unlocked by a groundskeeper, and climbed two flights of stairs to the roof. A low wall enclosed the flat area, from where one could view the city lights.

It was a fine night and Leila should have been waiting for him. But finding himself alone, Spock began to pace. Half an hour passed.

Suddenly the roof entry slid open. Spock stepped toward his lover, ready to sweep her into an embrace.

Leila raised one hand, fingers spread in a staying gesture. "No, Spock. Just listen. You keep trying to persuade me to join Starfleet…"

"Married couples are often posted together," he reminded her.

"On a starship? That's your dream, not mine. It never was my dream. All my life, I've wanted to join an agricultural space colony. Now Elias Sandoval is about to settle a new one on Omicron Ceti III. And…and I've been selected as a member."

Spock's heart plummeted. "Omicron Ceti III? You didn't tell me you applied." Fighting disappointment, he reasoned, "Even so, we can marry next month…and work out the details at a later date."

Leila's eyes glistened in the starlight. "What kind of marriage would that be? Living light years apart from one another. I want a real husband, and Elias says—"

Jealousy stirred. "Elias Sandoval! You have always been taken with him."

"With his _ideas_ , Spock. He isn't all caught up in technology, like you. He understands what's important."

"Digging potatoes?" It came out harsher than he intended.

Leila sighed. " _You_ used to understand. Or were you only pretending to care?"

Closing the distance between them, Spock gripped her by the shoulders and was chilled by her lack of response. "I understand that I love you. What has happened? Why are you doing this?"

Shrugging away from his touch, she said, "I'm sorry…but it's over."

Then she was gone.

oooo

Deep within, there had been a rending. Having received little training in Vulcan ways, Spock could not know how his link to Leila compared with properly bonded couples. He was aware only of a keen, unremitting pain as he went about the days that followed. Perhaps on summer leave he would visit his lifelong sensei, Mr. Akita, who had once studied under a Vulcan master. Meanwhile, he completed the last of his final examinations and wondered what would become of him now, if pon farr struck.

Time and time again he thought back to the academy application form, question number thirty-eight. _"Are you aware of any mental or physical condition that would interfere with the performance of your duty as a Starfleet officer?"_

Now, with Leila gone, he seemed honor-bound to reveal that unfitness peculiar to the Vulcan race, even if it meant expulsion.

The school day was at an end when he found Captain Pike inspecting a vacant simulator.

Pike's friendly face brightened at the sight of him. "Grayson! I was just about to send for you. Congratulations; you've passed with flying colors and will be the class valedictorian."

"Thank-you, Captain," Spock said levelly. He had expected as much, and already had a speech prepared.

Pike's smile faded. "These past couple of years, you've shown a real aptitude for teaching. I know you've had your sights set on a starship posting, but for now I'd like you to stay on at the academy as an instructor…and also help design us some challenging simulator programs. What do you think of that?"

A week ago, Spock would have argued against it. But coming as it did, Pike's offer seemed a reasonable — if temporary — solution to his personal dilemma. If hormonal problems arose, he would be here on Earth where his stepfather could offer discreet medical assistance.

Putting question thirty-eight out of his mind, Spock said, "I am willing."

Pike's eyes widened in surprise. Then he announced, "And there's something more. A Federation official wants to meet our resident Vulcan. I took the liberty of setting up an appointment." Pulling a small padd from his uniform pocket, he scrolled through some entries. "Here it is. Yes, tomorrow at 1600 hours. Present yourself at the main desk and they'll direct you from there."

oooo

In full senior cadet uniform, Spock entered a counseling room and found a simply dressed man gazing out a window. Bars of sunlight from the narrow blinds streaked the stranger's face, but as he turned, Spock saw it clearly. And stiffened with distaste.

Sarek of Vulcan addressed him in a deep, commanding voice. "You are blood of my blood. I have watched you from afar, and you have shown promise. But your abilities are wasted here."

A mixed compliment? To the son he disowned as a young child? Spock had heard rumors of another son of Sarek, turned criminal and exiled from Vulcan. Carefully restraining his anger, he spoke to his father for the first time in nineteen years.

"Now that Sybok is lost to you, I show promise."

A brow rose on the stoic face. "Transferring you to the diplomatic corps would be an easy matter. I will personally oversee your training. Right from the beginning, you will receive a generous stipend. And now that your…female companion…is off to a distant colony, I can secure for you a proper Vulcan wife."

Spock's anger deepened to fury, and he ventured a step closer. "What do you know of Leila? Did you arrange her acceptance by Sandoval? Perhaps a generous donation to the venture?"

Sarek ignored the accusations. "You are my son. From this day forward, your private life must be exemplary."

Fists clenching, Spock declared, "My life is not your concern and never shall be. I don't even know who you are. My father is Doctor David McCoy."

"Then you are lying to yourself," Sarek said in a condescending tone. "But never mind; you will overcome your human upbringing and learn to appreciate Vulcan ways."

For that, Spock might have killed him. Somehow he stopped himself in time, closed his eyes, and deeply buried every vestige of emotion. But turning on his heel, one bitter remark slipped his control.

"Go to hell."

oooo

The sun shone brightly on the neat rows of academy graduates seated in the athletic field. There was a burst of applause as Spock was introduced for the valedictorian address. Resplendent in a gray and red dress uniform, he mounted the ceremonial stage and began his speech.

"Good morning, ladies and gentlemen…"

As he spoke, the presence of family was overshadowed by Leila's absence and Spock's recent confrontation with Ambassador Sarek. But he refused to acknowledge it. All month he had kept a tight rein on his emotions, scarcely permitting himself to feel anything. The coping mechanism had not escaped the notice of those around him, who said he had "gone totally Vulcan".

Were they right? Did the intensity of Vulcan emotions demand a full interior retreat, as taught by Surak? Must logic alone dictate a Vulcan's behavior?

His flawlessly presented address came to an end and was well-received. One by one, diplomas were distributed, and then all but Spock's hat flew high into the air. Commencement was over, but Ensign Spock Grayson experienced only a vague sense of satisfaction. Allowing joy might also allow darker feelings to disturb his soul.

Somehow, in the milling crowd, his family managed to find him. It became harder to remain indifferent as his mother and stepfather delivered heartfelt embraces. Then even Leonard drew him close and offered congratulations.

Leonard's wife, Jocelyn, was pointedly absent and Spock had been duly warned by his parents about the recent breakup of their marriage.

A hand pulled at Spock's sleeve, and there stood little Joanna McCoy.

"Uncle Spock!" she said in greeting. Tears filled her blue eyes as she beckoned him closer. Somewhat reluctantly, Spock leaned down and she whispered into his pointed ear, "Mommy wouldn't come. And she almost wouldn't let Daddy bring me."

There was an inner tug of sympathy, but Spock resisted it.

Joanna's arms went around his neck. "Please, _please_ make them stop fighting," she begged.

The intensity of her sorrow swept past his emotional barriers, straight into his heart. Suddenly, it was as if _he_ were six years old again, at the mercy of parental conflict and court decrees. Another marriage in ruins. Another wounded child.

How could he not empathize? How could he not console her?

Breaking out of his isolation, he dropped to one knee and hugged little Joanna tightly.

oooOOooo


End file.
